


Our Masks

by kithings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Autistic Luke Skywalker, DINLUKE, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Parenthood, grogu is a menace, luke doenst know how to raise a kid, no outline its just me and my notes app against the world, traumatized characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28389141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kithings/pseuds/kithings
Summary: Luke Skywalker, Savior of the Galaxy. Of all the responsibilities he's ever carried, he had no idea caring for his first Padawan would be the hardest.The Jedi and Mandalorian both have heavy masks. Maybe, together, they can begin to lower them.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 42
Kudos: 319





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This all started because I wanted to explore Din and Luke's dynamic as people with so much responsibility on their shoulders and what would happen if they learned to drop some walls together. Also, I firmly believe Grogu would sense that Luke's never cared for a child before and take complete advantage. Who knows where this will go. No beta, it's just me and my notes app. Yeehaw!

It had been almost two weeks since Luke brought the child to Yavin IV and, in his defense, he really was trying his best. In his mind, he had been going to retrieve his first Padawan; one of many students that would culminate into the academy he dreamed of. Luke and his first student would bond, the child learning the patience of tending to a garden and meditation while he would work on building more structures that would grow the campus. He would start Force training with simple tricks that would please a child, working gently as to build confidence as well as a Force connection. He would be eternally grateful for the training Yoda gave him, but he wanted to be a gentler, more transparent Master.

Luke had no idea what sort of cruel joke the galaxy was playing on him to give a student that not only was of the same species of his old Master, but barely mature enough to walk, let alone speak. He had a bit of a crisis about it on the ride back, Artoo beeping at him in wild exclamation over the situation they were in and Luke asking if the droid had any knowledge of infant care. Artoo made fun of him instead of answering.

Arriving at the moon honored with the location of the new Jedi Academy, Luke made his way to campus. A place he had built with his own two hands, the academy had one entire building complete. It was supposed to be the main indoor classroom; a round, decently-sized hut constructed mostly of wood, rope, and dried grass. Now, it was really just Luke's living quarters.

Just outside of the hut was a pit for fires and all the items included in his makeshift kitchen. Inside were two bedrolls– a large one for Luke and a small one prepared ahead of time for the anticipated apprentice– and not much else. Staring at it all with a baby in his arms, Luke realized exactly how much he had been relying on a second set of hands.

Luke let out a sigh. Artoo beeped.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it; I'm a bit over my head in this one."

\--

There had been two things the child could communicate about his own care: firstly, his name was Grogu. Secondly, he only ate frogs and eggs. This seemed inaccurate, as Luke had witnessed Yoda eating a much more varied diet, but the youngling insisted. After four days entirely spend hunting down Grogu's requested meals, Luke accepted he needed at least a little help.

"What in the galaxies is that?" asked Leia, her face getting larger in the hologram as she leaned in. Grogu sat in Luke's lap, reaching towards the blue light with curiosity.

"My first Padawan," Luke replied sheepishly. This earned him a laugh from his sister, something he did cherish hearing despite the circumstance. They hadn't talked much since Luke found himself so busy building the school.

"Where did you find him, some pond?"

Luke explained that it had actually been a whole ordeal, tracking down the child through the force and plowing through an Empire ship to retrieve him. Reluctantly, he also explained that he was having trouble figuring out exactly how to care for the youngling.

"Could you put Threepio on for a moment? I was hoping he could at least tell me what he is."

Leia nodded. "Of course. I should have him back to you soon, by the way. These ambassador conferences always last too long." With that the hologram was blank for a few minutes before a familiar metal face appeared.

"Master Luke, how good to see you!"

Luke smiled, always endeared by how eagerly the droid greeted him. "Hi, Threepio. You're pretty good at species identification, right?"

"Why, of course!"

Luke grabbed Grogu and held him closer to the hologram. The droid was quiet for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Master Luke, but I have no clue what that is. Did you find it on Yavin IV?"

With a resigned nod he set Grogu back down and sighed. "Worth a shot," he muttered. "Thanks, Threepio. Well, are you enjoying the conference?"

They chatted for a bit before Leia returned, saying how much she missed him and that she would be visiting soon. Luke acted like this prospect didn't make him nervous, as he had yet to finish the first actual hut meant as living quarters, and was making little to no progress with so much focus on the child.

Saying goodbye and hanging up, Luke found himself more anxious than before the call began. Artoo's prodding about what he was going to do wasn't helping, and Luke was faced with a startling fact:

Childcare was harder than destroying a Death Star.

\--

Over the next several days Luke tried as many different tactics as he could think of. By trial and error, he learned that Grogu would not eat anything preserved, cooked, or dead. However, Luke also discovered the child liked fish when offered a live one. This wasn't very helpful, though, as he still found himself spending most of the day hunting for food.

The real insult to injury were all the tales of danger and bravery Grogu would tell of his former caretaker while strapped to his back. A Mandalorian bounty hunter working full-time while raising a kid? Really? Something had to be missing.

Still, with every memory Grogu passed through the Force, the Mandalorian was always the figure of ultimate protection. No matter the situation, the child always felt safe. Now, when not recalling fond moments, Grogu was lonely. Luke could tell the youngling did enjoy his company to some extent, but there was a longing, cold and metallic like unfilled armor.

On their ninth night together, Luke moved the bedroll outside by the fire. It wasn't cold– the moon was usually warm and humid, so the two had no need for the heat. Some nights, before the child, Luke would just lay under the stars and speak to himself.

He never really enjoyed being alone. Luke was a social creature, one who thrived off a close-knit group he could be himself with. It had been so long since that was possible, though. For years he's had a mask up: Savior of the Galaxy, Death Star Destroyer, Jedi Knight... It wasn't until coming to Yavin IV that he realized just how much he had lost himself.

Now, he was free to do as he wished without expectations. His Force connection had never been deeper. The air, water, birds and bugs all pulsed and flowed, and he was a part of life's tides. Yes, he had to bathe in a stream and build a fire to cook, but he did it as Just Luke.

While Grogu usually slept on Luke's chest, tonight he was still awake, staring up at the sky with his new caretaker.

"Isn't it painful to think you're from one of these specks?" he asked, no expectation for the child to understand. He hardly understood himself when he got into his own thoughts. Luke raised the hand not being held by the youngling, motioning to the stars. "Whole worlds. Billions of lives. Each just a speck. I don't even know which one is mine from here."

A feeling of golden yellow comes from Grogu, a comfort in the back of his mind. It reminded Luke of a dimmer feeling the youngling felt about his father. That's what he always called that Mandalorian– "Father." Would Grogu think of him as his father one day, too?

"I think we could make a good team one day," he said, gently stroking the child's ear. Grogu was powerful, and understood much more through the Force than he let on. Luke just had to get through this rough patch before training could really take off. After a few moments he heard a light snoring and muttered, "I wonder which speck you're from."

\--

Day ten Grogu figured out how to throw rocks with the Force.

This was the last straw.

Artoo screamed as he zoomed away from the child and his onslaught of pebbles. Luke had honestly thought a simple lesson in lifting multiple stones slowly could be managed, and the lesson itself had gone very well, but the outcome became a nightmare.

According to Grogu himself, the only person to ever keep him under control was the Mandalorian. Luke needed, at the very least, advice on how to do this. Even a vague Jedi-esque riddle would be appreciated. Anything.

"Gro-" Luke dodged a pebble. "Grogu. Gr- Artoo! Put your zapper away! Grogu. Look at me." The child paused his assault to look at him with large eyes, mock innocence betrayed by the rocks floating next to him. "Grogu, I need you to tell me everything about your father."

\--

Din Djarin.

Infamous bounty hunter.

Easy to track down with the apparent slew of high-profile jobs he had taken in the past few weeks, difficult to pinpoint because he had only recently acquired a new ship.

Thankfully, through some of Leia's connections he was guiltily vague about needing, Luke had a way to communicate with the Mandalorian. That meant now he had reached the actually difficult part.

Putting the mask back on.

There had to be a diplomatic-sounding way to beg for help with a child. Luke figured he had one quick shot to get the Mandalorian's attention without triggering any anger. The man had been close to tears when he left with Grogu, so Luke was prepared to face a significant amount of resentment if the bounty hunter even picked up his call.

Grogu was unhelpful when it came to brainstorming Luke's pitch, as he knew if he told the Mandalorian his child was starving he would be shot down faster than he could blink, even with Jedi skills. Implying in any way that the youngling was unsafe would go badly.

After hours of internal deliberation, Luke decided on what he was going to say. He waited until Grogu was down for a nap before he called, not wanting the youngling to hear him embellish the truth or interrupt the call in any way.

\--

Anxiety rushed through him like a cold wind as the call went out. While Luke had spent most of his time on Yavin IV in dirty work clothes, he was now dressed up again in his black robes, hair combed back and looking as the Savior of the Galaxy should.

It rang for so long Luke almost deemed it a lost cause. Just before ending the transmission the hologram screen suddenly flicked to life, a shiny helmet staring at him. Luke put on his calm smile and, quick as lightning, he wasn't Just Luke anymore.

"Greetings, Mr. Djarin. My apologies for this sudden call, and for my lack of introduction during our first meeting. My name is Luke Skywalker. I–"

"Is the kid okay?" the Mandalorian interrupted.

Luke's composure cracked for a moment, brows raising in surprise at how quick to the point the other man was. "Grogu is doing well," he assured with a nod.

"Why are you calling?" There was a stiff, guarded tone to the man's voice.

This wasn't according to Luke's pre-planned internal script. Mentally scrambling, he did his best not to show any panic.

"Well, I..." Luke's gaze drifted away from the hologram as he thought. If the bounty hunter wanted bluntness then he would provide it. "Grogu misses you." He looked back to the expressionless helmet. "In ancient Jedi practices, this would be seen as a weakness. Any sort of connections were forbidden. It's something I find... cruel, to say the least."

The Mandalorian says nothing, so Luke continues.

"He talks of you often. Almost constantly, really. I'm worried that your separation may hinder his training, or worse. With your support I'm sure he will flourish. What I mean to say is, we would like you to visit. If you wish, I can–"

"Yes."

"Excuse me?" Luke asked lamely, wanting to make sure he heard correctly.

"Send me the coordinates."

Luke was suddenly embarrassed of how much he had worked himself up over the call. He was talking too much, making a fool of himself in front of the bounty hunter. He should have known better.

"Of course. I must ask you keep the location confidential, though, for safety reasons."

"Alright," replied the Mandalorian simply. "I'll be there soon."

Then the call was over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Thank everyone so much for the attention this is already getting!! <3 Here we have a Din chapter, and I'd like to just give a little warning for depressive episodes and unhealthy coping. Nothing too serious in my opinion, just wanting to be mindful in case anyone didn't sign up for that. Again, thanks for reading!

The past two weeks had become an intentional blur for Din. He hardly even remembered how he got off the Empire's ship after handing off his kid. There had been some sort of screaming match started by Bo-Katan, and a ride to Tatooine with Fett and Fennec. The assassin had offered him a jar of some type of foul-smelling alcohol, and for the first time in his life, he tried to drink his sorrows away.

It didn't work very well.

Wading through a depressive cloud and a hangover, Din made his way to Peli to see if she could get him a ship. Taking far too loud pity on her old friend, the mechanic made him stay at her home to rest for a day while she poked around to find anyone selling something sound enough to go lightspeed.

The best result was a woman trying to get rid of her ex-husband's midlife-crisis purchase. It was a clunker, not unlike the Razor Crest, named something Din didn't want to repeat and smelling like bantha meat in the sun. The cabin was concerningly comfortable, and Din spent the better part of a morning cleaning the ship enough that he didn't feel too uneasy about the thing.

Then he was off, taking every job he could. Took ones below his pay grade just for the distraction, was reckless and violent when he didn't need to be. By the end of the first week it felt like every tavern knew exactly who he was the second he stepped in.

Five messages from Cara Dune sat unanswered when a sixth came in.

"C'mon, I know you're getting these." She sounded almost tired as she spoke. "Just come on down and have a drink with me. Karga misses you. Been on my ass about where you are. Don't make me drag you back here, I will." There was a brief pause before she added a genuine, "Please, at least respond so we know you aren't in some ditch."

Well, that just wasn't fair.

Din took his helmet off, running gloved hands over his tired face. Ugh, how long had it been since he cleaned up? With greasy hair and dry skin, the bounty hunter didn't want to know what he must smell like. Maybe going out would do him good. Give him an excuse to do something unproductive for once.

He replied to Cara's message with brief statement that he was on his way.

\--

Din took his time getting clean in the large refresher, thankful for the first time that the junker he bought was retrofitted for luxury activities he still didn't like thinking about. He shaved, shaped up his hair and mustache a bit, enjoyed the small vanities he allowed. Even if forbidden to show his face to others, he still had to see himself in the mirror sometimes.

Beskar never really needed shining, but he took some time to buff out a few scuffs in his armor. Getting dressed again, Din actually began to feel a bit more grounded. He could handle an evening with a friend or two.

\--

Entering the tavern, Cara stood and motioned him to a secluded booth in the back. Greef poked his head around the corner, offering a smooth wave in greeting.

"There he is! The recluse himself. Get over here!" she practically cheered when he approached, swinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him down with her into the booth.

Din went stiff with the contact. Maybe this was a bad idea. He wasn't ready for being this... social.

"Cara's taken the liberty of breaking in the bottle for us," explained Greef as he motioned to the half-empty blue bottle on the table.

"We got you a little straw." Cara held up said straw, a wide grin on her face.

"Why?" asked Din flatly.

"So you can drink with us! C'mon, try to stick it under your helmet."

Din stared at the object being offered to him and wished he had stayed in his ship. "I'm not doing that."

"Told you," said Greef pointedly. "We also sat in the very back so you could lift your helmet, if you wish. We won't peek."

That was a slightly better offer.

"If you do I have to kill you," stated Din, and the two knew to laugh.

They also knew better than to ask about the kid. Instead they eased him in with local gossip, poked gently at what jobs he'd taken recently. Din risked taking a drink, and when the two fully looked away, he figured it was safe to take a few more.

Unlike Cara, Din was a lightweight. Within an hour he was slumped in his seat, head lolled against the wall. Cara leaned against him, not because she needed to, but because she just got clingier and clingier the more she drank. Greef hardly had anything, instead watching the two from his side of the table with an amused smirk.

"My ship smells like raw meat," Din complained slowly.

"What are you flying now?" asked Greef.

"I don't even know! I got it off some woman getting back at her husband, or something like that. It had curtains, and... rugs everywhere. Had to rip ‘em out.”

"Oh my god," Cara said as she sat up. "Is it, like... well furnished?"

Din squeezed his eyes shut and stayed silent. Cara hit his arm and burst out in wild laughter. She wiped at her eyes, makeup smudging more the longer time went on. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry."

"It's the only thing I could get." Din let out a sigh. "It's all I have. That's pathetic, isn't it?"

Greef and Cara frowned, exchanging a quick glance between each other.

"Hey, let's not-" Cara tried to put a hand on Din's shoulder but he shook it off.

"The Empire blew up my ship, took my kid, took my– my Creed! I broke my Creed. And when I finally get him back, he's taken by some... Jedi fuck." He really, really didn't want to cry, but he could feel the stinging in the corners of his eyes.

Greef and Cara were quiet, not wanting to overstep.

"He was my... my family. For the first time, since I was a kid, I had family. I... I don't know where he is. I don't know who he's with. I don't–" Din's voice cracked, and through the alcohol, he knew that meant it was time to stop talking.

The night was pretty well spoiled after that. No matter the prompting, Din didn't want to speak anymore. He just wanted to go lay down. When Greef stated he should be heading home Din took that as cue he could leave as well. Standing up he gave the two a curt nod before turning.

"Wait," Cara called out, reaching out to grab his arm but thinking better of it. "You aren't flying tonight, right?"

Din shook his head.

"Okay, good. Let me say bye before you take off tomorrow, alright?"

He let out a sigh. "Alright."

\--

Stripping off his armor was frustrating when still slightly inebriated. The pieces fell to the floor with loud clangs that sent spikes of pain through Din's head. This had all been such a mistake.

The word wouldn't stop reeling through his head: Mistake, mistake, mistake.

A mistake to come here, a mistake to buy this ship, a mistake to give his son away, a mistake to take his helmet off... Spiraling, he almost thought it was a mistake to keep Grogu in the first place.

Catching where his mind was going, Din was washed over with a deep, cold shame. He knew better than that. The kid had been the best thing to ever happen to him.

Armor only half-shed, Din lowered himself onto the bed and rested his head in his hands. Warm tears pooled in his eyes, spilling as he tried to wipe them away. He hadn't cried this much since losing his parents as a child. Perhaps it was fitting, given the circumstances.

\--

Din woke up the next morning with a headache and crusted tears on his face. There was a bad taste in his mouth, and his body ached from sleeping with random pieces of armor still on. He wanted to go back to sleep, spend as much time as possible unconscious, but the banging on the side of his ship was a merciless call to his feet.

"Shit," he muttered as he dropped the piece of armor he tried putting on. He's been doing this for decades, it was pathetic for him to be this sloppy. If any type of threat was out there he may actually be in trouble.

Fully suited up and with a blaster drawn, he opened the ramp of the ship. The sun blinded him like a knife to the skull, unforgiving on his tired eyes. Thankfully, the only thing waiting for him was Cara Dune.

"Morning, sunshine," she called, knowingly not as loud as she usually would be. Holding up an object in each hand she stated, "I have gifts you can't refuse."

Din's shoulders slumped, holstering his blaster as he met her on the ground. Cara shoved a bottle of something into his chest.

"Drink that. You'll hate it, but it'll kill your headache."

Din took it without reply, internally relieved he may get reprieve from the drill in his mind. Next, Cara held out a large jar.

"Incense. For the, y'know... meat smell. Strong stuff, I'd be surprised if just a bit didn't take care of it." She didn't look at him as he took it, both aware this was a bit more personal than either of them were comfortable with.

Din looked from the items in his hands to Cara. He wasn't used to gifts. Favors, sure, but being given something without the expectation of any repayment was uncomfortably foreign to him. He had been a depressive mess that ruined their night out, yet Cara still cared enough to help him when he wouldn't even think to ask for it.

"Thanks," was all he managed to get out.

"Hey, what are friends for?" she replied, awkwardly punching his shoulder.

They were both silent for a moment.

"This is weird," Din said bluntly.

Cara laughed. "Yeah, feels like shooting at each other would be more natural. But hey, maybe if you return my messages quicker we won't have to do this whole 'buddies' thing again."

Din gave a nod. "I suppose that's fair."

She took a step back, crossing her arms in a way that relaxed them both. "So, where are you heading?"

He shrugged. There was no place to go now. "Wherever the best bounty pucks take me."

\--

The incense did work well. Almost too well, as Din didn't really know how it worked and lit a small pile on fire with his gauntlet. The smell was suffocating at first, but once it had faded the ship smelled of woodsmoke and some kind of heady floral blend.

It was... kind of nice. He hoped the jar would last for a while. The kid would love–

No. Can't think about that. The kid's probably gone forever. Doesn't matter what he would like.

Din had a pouch full of pucks to work through to take his mind off it.

\--

The second week was worse. He was getting far too sloppy. Every time he turned to look for the kid instinctively, every time he checked if it was his mealtime or if his robe needed a wash by now, every time nothing was there and it made him fracture.

Din wasn't used to this. He was a fighter; a feared warrior through the galaxy. Decades of training should mean he's better at compartmentalizing. Instead, his sorrow infected everything.

He was making his way through stashed medkits at an alarming rate. Din had yet to lose a fight, but he was taking more and more hits every job. There was a dried patch of blood on the cabin floor where he had to stitch a slash on his leg closed and never bothered to clean it up. One evening was spent popping a dislocated shoulder back into place.

Din didn’t stop to think of the repercussions it would have on his body.

\--

Two weeks after he gave his son up Din Djarin probably had at least one broken rib. He had been sent to kill a creature threatening a mountain town and it had slammed his chest into a rock before he shot it dead.

He got his payment and slowly got back to his ship. There wasn't much to do about broken ribs; he'd just have to deal with it. Back in the empty of space, Din took his helmet off and let out a deep breath.

He winced. Yeah, definitely broken. Maybe he should actually try to find a planet with good healers, or at least one with some ice.

Suddenly, his com went off. Din let out a groan. Taking his time, he put his helmet on and painfully adjusted his posture. When he answered the image that popped up on the hologram made his heart stop.

It was that Jedi. The one that had his kid. He had started speaking, but Din's mind was elsewhere. Had something happened? Was Grogu in danger? That was the only reason the Jedi would call, no?

"Is the kid okay?"

The other man seemed surprised by the question. After being assured his son was okay, Din was left with the fact that he hadn't listened up until now.

"Why are you calling?"

He couldn't accept the offer to visit fast enough. Hanging up, Din's whole body positively buzzed. He expected it to be years before this would happen. The coordinates said Yavin IV; that was only a few hours away.

Fuck his ribs, he was going to see his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hurts me to hurt Din but also giving him a space shaggin' wagon was... far too tempting. Anyway, next we finally get to have them properly meet!! Grogu is gonna be so happy. :') Catch me on tumblr @ lycanthology and I hope to be back soon!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back again! Sorry this took so long, but in my defense it is twice as long as the previous chapters. Finally, main character interaction! Let's gooooooo!

Yavin IV was a dense, green moon, and Din was so impatient in finding a place to land that part of him considered the repercussions of just dropping down onto the trees. Thankfully, he found a clearing close enough to the exact coordinates that he would only have to do a short trek.

Dizzy with excitement, his hands clasped and unclasped at his sides, energy pulsing through him. This was really happening. He was about to see his son again. The day had come already. Quickly patting the pouch on his belt, Din assured the silver ball was inside before stepping out of the ship and into the forest.

Din tried pacing himself through the trees, but when sudden shouts were heard ahead he ignored the protest of his ribs and ran. Panic attacked his mind, rushing thoughts of if the Imperials were back or a bounty hunter had come for Grogu. Soon he was at the edge of a far larger clearing, and in the distance could see the commotion.

Was that... an R-unit with a shield?

"Grogu! Manners, manners!" called a voice before the Jedi bounded out of a large hut. He was dressed just as before, in the same all-black outfit, yet he looked far less collected this time. Instead of the emotionless figure he once was, the man had an almost youthful bounce to him as he rushed to break up the one-sided scuffle.

His son had, apparently, found joy in throwing rocks at the droid with his powers. The child giggled and chased after it, the droid beeping wildly while holding a crudely-made shield of sticks. What kind of training had his son been receiving...?

Suddenly, Grogu's head turned, catching sight of his father and screaming in wild delight. Little legs ran as quick as they could, and Din found himself letting out a breathless laugh as he rushed to meet the child.

"Hey, kid," he greeted, smiling wide under his helmet. The second he was scooped up Grogu was snuggling into his solid embrace, happy coos and trills sounding as his ears wiggled.

If pressed, Din could only describe the feeling as being whole again. Everything was how it should be, Grogu closing his eyes in contentment as a gloved hand gently pet his head. His son was safe and happy, here in his grasp. Without a threatening shadow looming above them they could breathe together for the first time.

"Told you I'd see you again," Din whispered, voice wavering with emotion. Grogu let out a coo in response.

They stayed like that for a while, soaking each other's presence in like they had been starved. Din sniffled a few times, trying to keep the tears at bay and thankful that the Jedi stayed by the hut to give them privacy. He took a moment to retrieve the silver ball from his pouch, Grogu grabbing it the second he realized what it was.

"You a powerful wizard yet, kid? Saw you're getting pretty good with rocks."

Grogu's ears twitched as he let out a mischievous giggle.

"Always such a womp rat."

It had only been two weeks, but Din had been scared the entire time in a way he didn't want to confront. Sometimes it became overwhelming, the feeling that something could have gone wrong; that his son could be in danger, that he wouldn't even have any idea. He wanted so badly to trust in the stranger that took him away, but how could he, after seeing what the Empire would do to him if caught?

"Has... has your teacher been treating you well?"

Grogu straightened, like he had been reminded of something he wanted to do. The child reached towards the ground and Din complied, setting him gently on the ground. Grogu waddled away towards the hut with purpose while Din trailed behind him.

The Jedi seemed to be having a hushed conversation with his droid, looking up when he noticed the two approaching. Din felt a hint of relief when he caught the warm look the other man gave the child. At least he still liked the kid through the trouble he caused.

Grogu stopped next to the Jedi, pointing with one claw up at the man while looking at his father.

"He's introducing me," explained the Jedi, now standing with the posture one would almost expect from nobility. "It's nice to properly meet you, Din Djarin."

"Just Din," he corrected reluctantly, displeased his name had already been given away. "Kid tell you my name?"

"Was it impolite of me to ask?"

"It's fine," he answered brusquely. People knowing his name was something he was going to at least try getting used to, and he couldn’t be mad at the kid for sharing.

The Jedi gave a slight nod of apology. "Well, then you may call me Luke. Ah, and this is Artoo," stated the man as he gave the droid a pat. It beeped in response. Din still wasn't excited to be around droids, but if Grogu liked the thing then he would at least give it a passive chance.

"I hope it wasn't too much of a bother to travel here. There's hardly a time Grogu isn't talking about you, and damaging a connection like the one you two have could be detrimental to his development in many ways."

Din would have fought his way through the entire Empire to see his son again. "No bother," he stated. He wondered why this Jedi seemed to have an opposite belief to Ahsoka Tano. She insisted their connection would be Grogu’s downfall if trained, yet now he was being told the opposite. While he couldn’t be more grateful to see his son, he worried which Jedi was correct.

The bounty hunter looked down when he felt a tiny hand slapping his leg for attention. God, how he missed this. "Yeah, buddy?" Voice soft, he was smiling again. His cheeks were starting to hurt.

Grogu waddled a couple steps away and began to levitate a nearby pebble. Before Din could congratulate him the droid let out a loud string of beeps and zoomed away to grab its shield.

"Artoo!" the Jedi called, cool composure breaking for a moment. He let out a sigh as the droid held its board of sticks. "Made me make him that because he doesn't like the rocks," he said quietly, like it was just between him and Din. "You've been through wars, Artoo."

Din's leg was being slapped again. Expectant eyes looked up at him.

"You're getting so good at that, kid!" he praised, earning a pleased coo from Grogu when he pat his head.

After a thoughtful beat, the Jedi's composure broke completely. Now he wore the expression of a wronged schoolchild. "Wait, did he already know how to do that?"

Grogu's ears flattened.

This took Din off-guard. Shouldn't he already know this as his teacher? "He's been doing the floating thing for a while. Lifted an entire mudhorn once."

The Jedi's eyes widened and quickly snapped down to the kid. He put one hand on his hip and exclaimed, "You said you didn't know how to do anything yet!"

The kid let out a sudden whimper, raising his arms up at Din pitifully. He picked the kid up, taking note of the pout on the little one's face. He snuggled into his father's arms like he needed protection, whining softly.

The two men were silent for a moment, both staring down at the child acting like he had been wounded. The droid broke the quiet, saying something that caused the Jedi to put his head in his hands. Din didn't need to ask for a translation.

"I think Grogu's been playing me."

\--

As a student of Yoda, perhaps Luke should have known better. His master had been somewhat of a trickster, and the little one seemed no different. Yet, Luke seemed to have underestimated just how much the child could fool him. He’d spent the past couple weeks thinking the youngling knew hardly anything of the Force.

He needed this Mandalorian much more than he thought.

However, as time passed, Luke wasn't going to be surprised if the bounty hunter decided he was unfit to care for his son. The man had been entirely unenthusiastic of the meager tour of campus, green waves of annoyance coming off him. Luke wasn’t offended that the Mandalorian expected more. They hadn’t exactly discussed his teaching career before all this, or lack thereof.

"Aren't there some of those ancient Jedi temples still left?" asked the man, clearly not trying to be accusatory but close to it. "Why don't you use one of those instead of... camping?" He scuffed a boot towards the leftovers of last night's fire.

It was a fair question. Luke couldn't blame him for being protective of his son. "There's one close by, actually. Ruins tend to carry a lot of pain, though." He paused, figuring out a simple explanation the other would understand. "Jedi's spirits can leave behind very powerful imprints. The last thing I want is a child in a new place getting scared by ghosts."

"Ghosts?" the Mandalorian repeated, brow rise practically audible in his tone.

Luke smiled. Perhaps both Grogu and his father could both benefit from some history lessons. "Something I'd be happy to explain later. Ghosts aside, I admit I have a habit of preferring to do things my own way. I'm the last Jedi starting a new order. I worried that trying to fit myself into old walls might hinder myself as a teacher."

The bounty hunter was silent, like he was debating on if this was a reasonable enough response.

Luke didn't want to admit it, but it was really Han that talked him into this setup. Leia had stayed out of it, which meant she agreed with Han but didn't want to admit it. Luke could get far too into his own head when having to act a certain way, and placing himself as a Jedi Master in an ancient temple would only solidify the mask he had to wear.

"C'mon, what do kids love more than the great outdoors? You got the– the patience, of building shelters," Han had said, beginning a list on his fingers, "What else do Jedi need? Serenity? Make, uh, a garden. Yeah. Become one with nature! That's where the Force is. No need to stick a bunch of kids in some stuffy old temple. Save that for field trips."

He had yet to find out if his campus would benefit a class of young ones like Han insisted, but so far it had been a great blessing for Luke. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so in touch with himself and the Force. Become one with nature, indeed.

Luke then had an idea that might sway the Mandalorian's opinion more in his favor. "Would you like to see Grogu's favorite spot?"

Both the bounty hunter and child cocked their heads to the side at the same time. Luke couldn't help the laugh that came out. It was becoming less and less hard to believe that these two really were family. Part of him wanted to state how cute they were together, but he had a feeling the Mandalorian wouldn't appreciate a compliment like that. Perhaps he’d save it for some other time.

"I'll have to get changed first, but Grogu can start showing you the way." He leaned down, now directly speaking to the child. "Go sit in your spot and we'll see if we can find some lunch, okay?"

Grogu nodded excitedly, beginning to shuffle away quickly while babbling something to his father. Luke could practically see the warmth of unity shimmering between them through the Force. He had the distinct feeling of wishing he could capture the moment forever, put it in his pocket to look at on dark days.

This was a love Luke was unfamiliar with. He knew many kinds of love, yes; the love of his friends, his sister, his aunt and uncle when he was just a boy. The love of gratitude, admiration. Grogu and his father had something different, though. Blood didn't bind them; it was pure choice. They had both decided to love each other.

When the two had made it into the trees Luke took a moment to say to Artoo, "We need to keep that guy around."

\--

Din was trying with all his might to give the benefit of the doubt. This Jedi was Grogu's kind, the one who had accepted his call to training, helped save him from the Imps. It was his given duty to unite his son with someone that could nurture him in the way he couldn't. This was the Way.

However, if he hadn't seen the Jedi plow through Dark Troopers like it was nothing, then Din would've been gone with Grogu the second he saw the sorry excuse for a campus.

Din let out a sigh as he slowly trailed behind his son in the forest. "Grogu," he started, causing his son to stop and look up with perked ears. It was worth it to ask. "Be honest with me, kid: are you happy here? Is this the kind of Jedi you hoped for?"

Grogu tilted his head, like he was giving the question serious thought. He then nodded surely, letting out a pleased babble.

Din sighed again. Part of him hoped Grogu would say no so they could go back to how things were. This wasn't a situation he could be selfish over, though, as painful as it was. His son’s well being would always come first. "Alright. That's all that matters, I guess."

The two walked a long while, though it was only a short distance. It was hard for Din to figure out how to follow someone so slow, resorting to just taking a step every time the kid got a couple feet away. Grogu babbled occasionally like he was trying to tell his father little things here and there. Din had to remind him of their task when the child got distracted by various bugs every so often.

Finally, they arrived at a large pond that sat surrounded by tall trees and bushes. The water was a calm blue, different creatures buzzing about on and around its surface. Din noticed what looked like makeshift traps in the shallow water tied to a nearby log so they wouldn't drift away.

Grogu waddled to a large tree, clambering over large roots before he situated himself on a small, grass-lined space against the trunk. He looked pleased with himself for making it all this way. Din lowered himself onto the ground next to his son, letting out a grunt when his ribs protested. He adjusted his position to a less painful but awkward angle.

"It's just cracked, don't waste your energy," Din stated when Grogu looked up at him with concern. "Seriously, no magic." The child pouted.

"Tell me about, uh, camping." He hoped this would be enough to distract Grogu from trying to heal him, and it seemed to be. The child babbled happily as they both looked at the pond before them.

The sun shone through the clearing, light glistening off the water. A steady hum of insects mixed with the birds chirping and frogs croaking. Din leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. Without the rush of a hunt or a hurried distraction from his feelings, Din suddenly realized just how tired he was. Exhaustion was all the way down to his bones, a sensation he knew would be hard to ignore now that it made itself known.

The peace didn't last long, though. Soon the Jedi arrived, and Din opened his eyes to see the man in a completely different outfit. It was light and well-worn, a tight sleeveless top and baggy pants paired with what looked like wading boots up to his knees. What made him lift his head in curiosity was the intricate pattern of scars he could see on the other, seeming to spread from his core and down his arms. They were raised and pink, like electricity running across his skin. 

The Jedi clearly had some stories to him.

"Sorry I took so long," apologized the man, running a hand through messy blonde hair. "I had to–" His face twisted in concern. "You're hurt."

"I–" Din started, confused as to how he picked up on that so suddenly. "It's nothing."

The Jedi looked from Din to Grogu then back, brow furrowed. Was the kid telling on him?

There was a moment of silence before the Jedi's expression switched to that of surprise. "Healing?" he asked the child, disbelief in his voice. "You can–" His attention snapped to Din, a thin hint of judgement to his tone. "He can heal? What else can he do?"

Din raised his hands to show his innocence in his son's tricks. "Just the floating and healing, for all I know. It wears him out, though. I don't want him wasting his energy on broken ribs."

Grogu grumbled like he disagreed.

The Jedi sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. Maybe this man was almost as tired as he was. The kid seemed to be putting him through the ringer. "As his teacher, he's going to have to show me his abilities. He needs a nap after lunch, anyways. He should do it after he eats."

Din wanted to protest, but it was clear the Jedi had made up his mind as he dropped the conversation to make his way over to the traps. Grogu cooed with excitement as the man splashed into the water and opened the wooden top off one.

"Aha! Looks like we got some, Grogu!"

The child cheered, bouncing in place as the Jedi reached into the trap and pulled out a large frog. The creature struggled in his grasp, but had nowhere to go as he brought it over to Grogu, who slurped it down greedily.

It was hard to believe this was the same man that mercilessly cut his way through an Imperial ship with ease. Now, the Jedi seemed... more like a boy. He wasn't, obviously; he had the eyes and scars of someone that had lived too many lives. It was a look he saw often in the Outer Rim. The jarring contrast to it all was the open smile on the man's face as he grabbed live frogs out of a shabby trap he must have constructed himself just for the child. He wasn't like the other Jedi he met at all.

Din was about to say something before the Jedi turned and went back to the trap again. He did this twice, feeding Grogu several frogs before the child sat back, stuffed. No wonder the kid liked it here, he had the man hand-feeding him his favorite food.

"You catch all his meals?" Din asked, almost in disbelief and already aware of what the answer was.

"Yeah, of course," replied the Jedi easily, running a wet hand through dry hair before catching his mistake. "How else would he eat?"

Grogu hiccuped. Din was silent, watching as the man's face slowly began to drop in realization.

"Well," the Jedi began with a sigh and slumped shoulders, dropping himself down on the ground like a defeated man. His boots dripped water onto the grass. "This just may be the most humiliating day in my life, which says more than you'd think."

\--

Nine frogs. Grogu had him trying to find at least nine frogs a day. Had him constructing nets and traps to catch them, crawling around in the mud while the child pretended to starve. If he didn't find three frogs per meal he climbed trees in search of fresh eggs or used a crudely made fishing pole at the pond.

All that work, and the child hardly had to eat once a day.

"He's just a glutton," explained the bounty hunter as they sat by the evening fire. "A place like this, he could catch his own meal in minutes. He'll go after anything that crosses his path. With how slow he grows, though, he doesn’t actually need much."

Grogu was still asleep inside the hut, worn from his big meal and healing demonstration. Luke still hadn't wrapped his mind around the fact that the child was so powerful. Healing was something he hardly even had a grasp on; he would have to see if there was any way to research the topic more. Maybe he could ask Ben about it the next time he showed up.

Man, what a Jedi Master he was. Just one student and he’d managed to become completely overwhelmed instantly.

Luke felt severely inadequate next to the Mandalorian. Childcare skills aside, he felt too self-conscious to make a second wardrobe change in such a short time, so he sat across from the beskar-clad man in work clothes and an old poncho thrown over. He'd make up for it tomorrow, he promised himself.

"How long are you able to stay?" he asked, stirring at the small pot of stew over the fire. The bounty hunter had eventually opened up after a bit of prying, and had been explaining his side to a few of Grogu's favorite stories of their time together. The man seemed deeply reserved, but held a clear soft spot for his son. Luke wanted to take advantage of it for the company.

The Mandalorian shrugged. "How long am I welcome?"

Luke gave a confused frown at that. Did he expect he’d send him away?

"You're Grogu's father, you're always welcome."

This seemed to take the man aback. He was silent for a moment, before replying with an almost quiet, "I'll stay a few days."

Luke could have sighed in relief. With how the day had gone, he knew it would take more time to get the child on his side without taking advantage anymore. Instead, he smiled at the bounty hunter's unreadable mask. "Grogu will be happy to hear that."

As if summoned by his own name, the child announced his presence with a loud yawn as he waddled over. He blinked sleep out of large eyes, robe wrinkled by the bedroll. Grogu made his way up to the other man, plopping himself down to lean back against his armor.

"Sleep well, buddy?" he asked, voice coming out soft as he ran a gloved finger over the child's ear. That glimmering warmth surrounded them like before, and Luke felt his chest tighten as the waves of it hit him. 

Luke hadn't realized he'd been so lonely.

His attention was grabbed suddenly by the pot on the stove beginning to spit bubbles. Luke let out a soft exclamation, standing to pull it off the fire. He stirred it with a nearby spoon, glad it hadn't burned. It smelled great, like always, and Luke reminded himself to thank Leia again for the shipment of food she sent.

"Want some?" he asked, holding the pot out in offering. "I'll even let you choose between the bowl or cup."

The Mandalorian shook his head after a beat. "I have rations back on my ship."

"Oh, c'mon, I made plenty."

"No, I–" The man sighed and looked away, Luke suddenly worried he overstepped. "I don't take my helmet off."

Given their first meeting, this didn't seem accurate. Luke set the pot on the ground, sitting back down and getting his bowl to fill.

"Is that a new thing, or...?" He tried not to sound like he was prying, looking down at the stew as he spoke. It didn’t work very well.

"No. It's a Creed I've kept since I was a child." The other spoke slowly, like the topic made him  
nauseous. "What you saw was just... selfishness. A moment of weakness."

Luke could feel the pain washing over the man, and Grogu let out a sad coo. This was clearly something that had been deeply bothering the bounty hunter. It was a moment of forbidden vulnerability for him, and that isn't something people are taught to just deal with. Especially not deadly warriors. 

"You did it for him, right?" Luke asked, voice quiet. "For your son?"

A few moments passed before he nodded.

"Did you think that was the last time you'd see him?"

Another nod.

Luke swallowed past a lump in his throat. This was his fault. He should have communicated the situation, should have made it known he would see his son again. How painfully had this man been agonizing over his child? How could Luke have been so naive?

"I'm sorry," he began, voice coming out rough. "I'm sorry. I didn't–"

"Don't." The bounty hunter's firm voice cut him off. "It was my choice. I knew what it meant."

Luke nodded in understanding, gazing down as shame crawled up his spine. He felt like he had to say something, though. Leaving things there meant it would always be sitting between them, quiet and oppressing.

"I... I'm not familiar with your culture." He let out a breath, looking up to the man's helmet. "And I hope this isn't deeply insensitive, because I don't mean it that way."

To his surprise, the other hadn't stopped him yet, so he continued.

"When it comes to traditions, I think the only universal excuse for breaking them is love. I don't know what it means for your people, but I know what it meant to your son." Luke smiled softly as he glanced down to the wide eyes watching him. "I wouldn't call something like that selfish."

The Mandalorian never responded to that, but a strange purple feeling rested around him. The three of them sat in silence, Luke eventually beginning his bowl of stew and Grogu waddling over for a few spoonfuls. He pretended to not notice the stare from the other man as he shared his bowl with the child. After what felt like a lifetime, when the stars hung clearly above them and the sun had long since set, the bounty hunter stood.

"I should get back to my ship." he stated plainly.

Luke raised a brow. "Not interested in a bedroll?"

"Neither of us want the child's size."

"I don't mind the ground," he said with a shrug.

The Mandalorian shook his head. "No need. I'll return in the morning."

Luke stood, stretching his back as he did. He held back a yawn; he and Grogu usually turned in by now for their early mornings. The child's eyes were clearly heavy, almost having nodded off against his father a few times. He stood up now with them, looking between the two men.

"Take him with you," Luke stated, earning a coo in agreement from the child. "You both deserve the time together."

The other seemed to consider this, crossing his arms and shifting his weight. "How do you know I won't just leave with him?"

Luke gave him a smile. "You care about him too much to do something like that." He felt the impulse to pat the other man's arm or shake his hand in farewell, a hands-on habit he picked up from Han. Knowing it would be unappreciated, though, he settled on a nod.

"Goodnight, Din."

The bounty hunter tilted his head to the side like something interesting had been said. "Luke," he replied simply, seemingly unaware of how the word felt like a fishhook snagging against the other's heart.

Within moments Luke was alone by the fire, the Mandalorian having carried his son away into the forest. He rubbed a hand against his chest, hoping that sudden pang had only been a fluke. It would be too much trouble to get any feelings, let alone for the father of his student.

"It's just been a while, that's all," Luke muttered as he kicked out the fire. "It'll pass. It’s just a man in armor. Give it a day and it'll pass."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this is so fun. :') Hopefully you enjoyed!! Find me on tumblr @lycanthology and thank you soooooo much for all the kudos and comments!! They mean the world to me. <333

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Hopefully I'll post more soon. If you wanna get on my case about writing more, or just do some dinluke gushing, you can find me on tumblr @ lycanthology.


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